Okay, everyone, now you can find out what happened to Hermione that fateful night when Draco rescued her!

Chapter 10

"But why? Mum, you can't seriously teach –"

"Blaise Zabini! I will teach you how to dance, whether you like it or not. It is not an option. You seem to get rid of all the other dance teachers I hire; so I've decided there's no one else that can do it better."

It had been a week since they had rescued Hermione and she and Draco had conversed in the kitchen; the four of them were seated in the kitchen one fine morning, when Maria decided that she'd take up teaching Blaise how to dance herself. Of course, Blaise had been… surprised to say the least.

"But it would be so weird!" Blaise whined at his mother. "We'll have to, you know, dance together." He said, disgusted.

Maria rolled her eyes and shot Hermione an exasperated look. Then, she had an idea. "You can dance with Hermione!" She practically sang.

"WHAT?!" Three voices yelled incredulously.

"You can't be serious." Hermione said, panicked. "The last time we tried this – well, it didn't go so well." She said.

"This time, you won't have that woman teaching you. Besides, my dear," She said in a motherly way. "Every young woman should learn to dance – it is after all, the language of love."

Hermione was about to protest some more – although weakly – when there was an extremely loud knock on the door. Maria got up to go see who was at the door, leaving the three young adults in the kitchen, eating breakfast quietly.

"So, Granger, scared to dance again?" Draco asked.

"Oh, be quiet, Malfoy." She retorted coldly. She still hadn't forgiven him about the way he was treating the girls who were lined up to marry him; really, it was quite offensive.

"C'mon, Granger, it was only a joke." He said, raising an eyebrow. "I know you're annoyed at me right now, but I'm sure Maria is a great dance teacher; and it's about time you got some kind of grace." He added with a smirk.

"It's not the dance teacher –"

"It's the getting to close to someone male." Blaise finished for her. She looked down and nodded, playing with her cereal as it sat in the bowl. "It's okay, Granger, I won't hurt you. You can actually trust me. The only damage I'll ever do to you is if I step on your toes." He joked, earning a little laugh from Hermione.

She beamed at him. "Oh, don't worry; it'll be me who steps on your toes."

A laugh came from the kitchen door as Maria entered with a woman around their age with dark hair and dark eyes. She was slightly short and thin, with a scar running down her neck from her chin to her collar bone.

Blaise jumped up and embraced her. "Pansy, you came." He said happily.

Draco looked uncomfortable. "Pansy." He nodded curtly and she scowled at him.

"Draco." Pansy Parkinson returned coldly. Her eyes finally landed on Hermione and her face became solemn. "Granger," She said politely, her voice softer.

"Hello Parkinson." She said back politely and looked down.

"I'll leave you all to it." Maria said, smiling as she left.

Pansy whirled around to face Draco. "You didn't tell me it was Granger!" She said in an accusing voice. "Why didn't you tell me it was her?"

"Because you wouldn't have come." He said calmly, picking at his toast.

"I'm right here, just so you know." Hermione said.

"Of course I would have come, Draco." She said heatedly. "I'm not cruel. I'd do whatever I could to help, but it would have helped me if I'd known. She doesn't want me in her business!"

"Calm down, Pansy. We didn't tell you because we thought you'd refuse."

"I'm right here!" Hermione said loudly and was still ignored. She huffed and stood. "Somebody tell me what the HELL is going on!" She demanded.

"What's going on, Granger, is that these boys send me an owl," She glared at the boys. "Asking me to come and help them because they had someone who had been in the situation I was in all my life. They thought it would be a lovely idea for me to help you get over him." She said, her voice becoming softer as she went on.

Hermione sat down again, taking a deep breath. "Nothing happened to me." She said in a wobbly voice, and then jumped as someone slammed their fists into the table and stalked off through the kitchen doors. She didn't have to look up to know it was Draco.

They had been having these sorts of fights all week; something would come up, and Hermione would be denying anything had happened to her, Draco would get mad and force her to remember, before storming off in a rage. He would then come back and apologise profusely, before going back to being annoying and sexist (in Hermione's opinion).

"Nothing happened." She repeated, not looking up as a tear rolled down her cheek. She suddenly felt two warm arms embrace her from the side and close tightly around her in a hug. A sob escaped Hermione's throat as she nestled her head into Pansy's shoulder and cried.

"Something happened… Hermione." Pansy soothed. "You can't keep lying to yourself about it."

"Five… four… three… two… now." Blaise counted down as the doors swung open and Draco walked through, kneeling before Hermione and taking her hand.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry; I can be an arse, I'm sorry." He said and she merely nodded, pulling her hand away from his and wiping her tears, before standing up.

"You are an arse." She said.

"Come with me, Hermione, we'll have a talk." Pansy said warmly, before glaring at Draco and pulling Hermione from the room. From there, they walked in silence through the halls, Hermione occasionally sniffling, until they came to a white door.

"What's this?" Hermione asked.

"This," Pansy tapped her manicured fingernails in a pattern across the wood of the door and it swung open without a sound. "This is The Room. Well, The Girly Room, to be precise." Pansy said in an excited whisper as they stepped into what could only be described as a headache. But instantly, the painful looking room turned from all shades of pink to natural greys and browns – much more soothing.

Hermione blinked. "I swear that was just painfully pink a second ago."

"Yes, it was." Pansy chuckled. "It must've sensed your dislike for pink." She mused.

"I don't dislike pink… well, actually, I do now…" She realised why, too. "Victor used to love me in pink." She said. "He always made me wear pink gowns to all of the parties and stuff. I used to love pleasing him." Hermione said with disgust obvious with her tone.

Pansy screwed up her nose as she sat down in one of the comfortable brown lounges. "My father used to tell me how to dress when his mates," she spat. "Came over for a little fun." She grimaced. "But it was never anything more than kinky little outfits or even just a dressing gown."

Hermione was shocked. She'd never heard anyone speak so openly about something like this. She herself was unable to even think about what Viktor had done – so she did the next best thing and denied it ever happened.

"Parkin- I mean, Pansy, what did your father do to you?" She asked quietly.

Pansy laughed bitterly and shivered. "Bad things, Hermione. My father," She began in a shaky voice. "My father used to do lots of horrible things to me." Her eyes were haunted as they stared at the suddenly burning fire. "At first, the abuse started when I was eight years old. He'd come into my room every night and for the first couple of weeks, he'd just kiss and fondle me… then, it got steadily worse. He'd rape me – up until I went to Hogwarts.

"When I got to Hogwarts, it ceased for a while; he didn't touch me. Until my fourth year – when I went home for holidays… well, he began to torture me if I resisted him. And then, in sixth year, he started bringing his friends around for sex. They'd all stand around me and… well, you know…"

"I'm so sorry – I shouldn't have asked." Hermione said, placing a hand on Pansy's arm shakily.

"No, don't be sorry. I'm not ashamed of it, Hermione. He's the one who should be ashamed. I'm the victim. It may be disgusting, but it wasn't my fault." She looked at Hermione pointedly. "Just like it's none of your fault either."

"Nothing –"

"Something happened, Hermione. You can't deny it anymore. I know, it's painful and you're ashamed, but you have to accept it." Pansy told her, nodding encouragingly as Hermione took a hesitant breath.

"The first time he hit me – I didn't even know it had happened until I woke up later with a huge bruise on my face." Her hand went to her cheek, remembering how much it had hurt. "The reason he hit me was because – because I didn't like dress he'd bought me. It was ugly; I'm telling you. It was puffy and pink. Horrible looking thing." She grimaced.

"After that?" Pansy encouraged.

"Well, I confronted him, and he nearly killed me." She said, letting out a long sigh. "He'd told Harry, Ginny and Ron that I'd tripped and fallen down some stairs. Of course, they'd all believed him. I don't blame them… I'd convinced them he was a god."

"He's such a bastard." Pansy stated. "That's horrible."

"It's heaven compared to what you've had to go through." Hermione admitted quietly.

"When did Draco find you?"

"That night… it was hell. He'd come home, happy as can be, and I'd been in a bit of a foul mood – but I tried to hide it – and he noticed. He yelled at me and slapped me, then decided to take me out to dinner. The evening was… well, tense and then he proposed." Tears were already running down her cheeks, but now she let out a sob.

"Up until then, we'd never done any more than kissed – and when he- when he pulled me into the alley-way to aparate home, he knocked me out. I wasn't out for long, because I could feel him on top of me, panting. I screamed and he hit me again – nearly unconscious. Then, Malfoy came and they got into a fight… I had to stop it, so I petrified Viktor and… that's all I remember."

Pansy smiled grimly and hugged Hermione. "See, it wasn't that hard – just painful. But at least now you've admitted it." Hermione nodded through her sobs. "I'm sorry it hurts, but this is a start. You can do this."

She looked up at Pansy with watery eyes and nodded once, before burying her head in her arms once again.